


Now I know my love for her goes on

by savvyliterate



Category: Babylon 5, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t suppose to be here, not when they’d just barely begun. Not when he finally realized just what she meant to him, what he chose to let her mean to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an almost, but not quite crossover with Babylon 5. Not quite because B5 isn't exactly canon-compliant, even though I kept it as close as I could while tweaking it for the purposes of the story. And even though a couple of characters appear in a supporting role in this story, this is about the Doctor and River, not about them. I needed a space station, and this one just happened to work itself into my story. If you're not familiar with Babylon 5, you'll still be able to follow this story just fine.

“OK, so I’ve got everything wired into the mainframe, and we should be good to go from here.” The Doctor studied his work, pleased at his brilliance. Even better, there was someone to brag about it to. He turned to the fuming commander, still bitter that he’d pulled rank over her again. “See? I told you I wouldn’t harm a thing.” He tapped his earpiece. “How are things on your end?”

“I’m ready.” River’s voice, scratchy with static laced through, came through. “The system recognizes yours, and as soon as I activate it, this bay will detach from the station, plummet into the planet below, and the atmosphere will burn it.”

The Doctor grinned. “Excellent! I’ll see you soon, eh?”

River was silent for a long moment. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “my vortex manipulator’s fried.”

“Oh, that’s not a … _what?_ It can’t be fried!”

“I’m afraid so. I had to dismantle it and use the parts to get everything wired into the mainframe.” She sounded far too amused for the situation she was in, and the Doctor just gaped.

“River!” He whirled to the monitor, to the bay full of explosives and the one lifesign that beeped on the screen. “Get out of there!”

“I’ll never make it out of the bay in time, sweetie.”

“Then, wait there! I’ll take your place!” He started for the door.

“The TARDIS is too far away, and you’ll never make it in time.” River’s voice was calm and practical, and the panic in his gut clawed at him. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t!” If he sounded hysterical, well … that would be just a misinterpretation on the crew’s part. “That bay is going to propel itself straight into the planet below us. It will burn in the atmosphere, and what doesn’t burn will disintegrate upon impact. River, you don’t have any regenerations left!”

“I trust you.”

The Doctor kneaded his forehead and fought the urge to bang his head against the nearest surface. At times, River was so much like her mother -- both of them -- that it was infuriating. “Look, just get out of there. I can delay the countdown from my end and …”

 _“Fifteen … fourteen … thirteen …”_

“I didn’t start that.” The Doctor turned on the commander, fury vibrating through him. _“Who the hell started that countdown?”_

“I did, my love.” River said through the headset.

Fear spiked in his gut. He slammed his hands into the console. “River!”

“A quarter-million lifeforms from all over the universe will die if we don’t get rid of this bay right now, including both of us.” Her voice was calm and patient, everything that he wasn’t at the moment.

“You aren’t meant to die here!” His hands flew over the console trying to halt the countdown, just long enough for her to get out, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind reminding him that River was right, there wasn’t enough time, and there were so many lives at stake.

“Neither are you.” He could hear it, the warmth and love radiating through the small headpiece. “I’ll be all right, my love. And if I do, well … I wouldn’t change a single minute of it.”

“River …” His throat felt like someone had clamped their hands around it and was slowly choking off the airflow.

“I love you,” she whispered, and the headset clicked off.

“River. _River!_ ” The Doctor mashed the button furiously on the headset, and but there was nothing except silence. He lunged at the microphone that they used for announcements to the station.

 _“Six … five … four …”_

No, the Doctor thought frantically as he patched into the bay’s intercom and security system. He knew, knew, knew he was going to lose River in that infernal Library. It wasn’t suppose to be here, not when they’d just barely begun. Not when he finally realized just what she meant to him, what he _chose_ to let her mean to him. He hit the camera, and River’s face flickered on screen. Her face was streaked with soot and dirt, and her curls sprang every which-way, and she was framed by white. Her eyes lit up with surprise as she spotted him.

 _“Three … two …”_

“River.” He gripped the microphone so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Tears burned behind his eyes. Everyone would hear him, but he didn’t care. He clutched it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I lo…”

The explosion drowned out the rest of his sentence, and the monitor went black.

\-----

 _Four hours earlier …_

Tucked into the side of the busy customs area, a blue phone box faded into view, crammed between a food cart and the lost baggage claim. There were so many beings from planets all over the universe milling about, absorbed in their own business or arguing with station personnel, that they didn’t notice the box or the man that stepped out of it.

Well, maybe not everyone.

“I’m sorry!” One of the security officers wearing a grey uniform called out to the station’s newest arrival. “You can’t leave that there! All unclassified spaceships go in Docking Bay 16, and you need to go through customs. Can I see some identification?”

The man merely strode off in another direction without hearing him.

“Sir? Sir!” The security officer chased after him. “You can’t leave that there!”

“Well, there wasn’t a no parking sign there now, was there?” The man shot back.

“Just because there isn’t a no parking sign doesn’t mean you can park a phone box there. It does require common sense.”

“Do I look like I have common sense?” The man didn’t wait for him to answer. “Didn’t think so. Common sense is completely overrated. Besides, I’m late. Extremely late. Actually, I’m 3.46 weeks late to be exact, and my wife is most likely very cross. Are you married?”

“No, sir, I’m not. Listen, if you could just …”

“Listen, if you ever get married, don’t ever be late. Especially if your wife carries a gun. My wife carries a gun. She actually carries several. And a couple of knives, a pair of handcuffs, a squareness gun, and at least one plasma blaster. Shouldn’t like that. I really do. Don’t tell her that. In any case, I was suppose to meet her here for our um … oooh, seventh anniversary. Or is that eighth? Or is it the 14th? It all gets muddied up in here,” he tapped his head, “and I accidentally dropped my reminder calendar into an acid pool last week. Did you know I got married at every single moment in history?”

The officer’s forehead wrinkled a bit. “Umm …”

“Right, no one remembers it. Aborted timeline and all.” The man suddenly stopped and pulled out a small blue notebook. He perused it, drew some symbols in the air with his finger, and his eyes lit up. “Oh, it's our _fifth_ anniversary! Very important anniversary! Ooooh.” He snapped the book shut, horrible realization in his eyes. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” the security officer said with great confidence and a bit of sympathy, “you really are.” And because an angry wife probably rated higher on the danger scale than his pissed-off boss, the officer laid a hand on the man’s arm. “Look, if you just give me your name, I can make sure everything is OK with the system, and you can go patch things up with your wife.”

“Right!” The man dug out a battered brown leather wallet and flipped it open.

The official scanned it, then nodded, pleased the credentials were in order and surprised to see the man was one of UNIT’s top operatives. That explained the box. He quickly saluted. “We’re very honored to have you here, Doctor.”

“Oh, don’t bother with that sort of thing,” the Doctor said, dismissing the salute. “Where’s the Fresh Air Restaurant?”

“Red Sector, sir. There’s a transport tube around the corner, and it’ll have you there in seconds.”

“Great! Where can I make a call?”

“There’s a communications console right after you get off the tube. It can reach anyone on the station.”

“Thank you.” The Doctor spun on his heel to head to the tube.

“Doctor?” The officer called after him.

The Doctor turned and walked backwards, never breaking stride. “Yes … Uh, I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“Zack, sir. Zack Allan. And you might want to try flowers.”

\-----

River Song, the Doctor knew, wasn’t one for flowers. She never seemed like the fussy flower type. No, she was the gun-explosive-sharp-pointy-object type. She did like gems -- especially if they concealed explosives, and she made no secret that she had a thing for clothes that rivaled his fondness for hats. Still, it didn’t hurt to snag a bouquet of what the florist called star laces to take along with him. He was making an effort, he decided, and straightened his lapels. He’d placed a call to the room she’d booked and left a message for her to meet him for dinner.

He had a very good reason for being late, he mused as he paced through the restaurant, looking for the table that the matre’d crisply informed him had been reserved every night. Every eye was on him. “The Husband Who Was Late.” No, that really wasn’t a good title. “The Husband Who Had Been Doing Awesome Things and Saving the Universe While the Rest of You Ate Dinner.” That was better. River understood that. River always understood things like that. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much. She’d only hurt him a little for being nearly a month late. Really, that was practically on time.

The maitre’d abandoned him by the table, but the Doctor didn’t sit. Instead, his gaze shifted to the maze of transport tubes and the slowly rotating panels of the station. A quarter-million people inhabited the last of the Babylon stations, and it went online in 2257. It was 2259 now, the TARDIS monitors had informed the Doctor as he headed out. The station had just gone through its first command change, and its new commander … well … the Doctor admitted to being a fan of his. He wondered if he could talk River into meeting him. He rocked back on his heels. It was probably why she’d sent him the invitation to have their anniversary dinner there. A romp through history was always a splendid gift. He found himself scoffing at the star laces. Well, he’d have to take her some place even more magnificent once they were done here.

He turned his back on the tubes, and the floor began to rumble.


	2. Chapter 2

Explosion, the Doctor realized, instinctively hitting the ground as a loud-pitched whine ripped through the area followed by the massive rain of glass, metal and body parts. He dove under the table. He squinted through the smoke and saw that one of the transport tubes had blown apart. He waited for the smoke and some of the ash to clear, wondered if River was had been on the tube and sincerely hoped not. Then he wondered if she was involved, and if she wasn’t, well … She’d be close by. Danger and River Song were like magnets, circling around each other before snapping together, then dragging the Doctor along for the ride. He shouldn’t like it. He really, really did.

The Doctor rolled onto his back and felt the buzzing in his back pocket. He fumbled for the mobile Amy insisted he get after he revealed the fact he was still alive to her and Rory. The old phone Martha had given him years ago was still on the TARDIS, where he kept it on the console. This one he kept on him after several rounds of inventive threats that involved Amy vowing to stick the phone in places he was quite sure would hurt very much, but didn’t really want to find out how. Amy Pond always carried out her threats.

“Hello, Ponds!” The Doctor coughed and waved away the smoke.

“Doctor? What are you doing?” Amy asked.

“You don’t do small talk, Pond. Didn’t you tell me to do more small talk? You know, ask about the weather, your father’s bunions, what you had for tea?” The Doctor could imagine Amy rolling her eyes, and he grinned.

“I’ve given up expecting you to have any sort of social norms years ago. I’m just amazed you even answered your mobile.”

“Did you find what I left in your refrigerator?”

“Yes, and it keeps trying to eat Rory!”

“Look, just feed it some lettuce.” He pushed aside the remains of a table. “It loves lettuce. Oh, and if you happen to have some leg warmers from the ‘80s, it really loves those. Should put it off Rory for a day or two.”

“Thanks. And I thought River had your number?”

“River always has my number. She was there when we got the phone. Actually, you two spent far too much time picking it out, and I’m still not quite sure what all she’s done to it. Why are you asking me this?”

“I just got a text from her. Not sure why it got to me and not you. What’s with all that noise in the background?”

“Oh, minor explosion, evacuation, just a normal sort of thing. What does it say?” The Doctor gained his feet and shifted the phone to his other hand.

“Just says ‘You’re late. Meet me in blue.’ Is that a new code word for the TARDIS?”

“No, something else probably.” The floor pitched again. “OK, Pond, got to go! Have a date with your daughter.”

“Well, you two have fun and … wait, Rory! I’ve got to feed it some lettuce!”

The Doctor shoved the phone in his pocket and threaded his way toward the exit. It was really handy that everyone happened to be running in the same direction he was going in. He spotted the security officer that had helped him earlier and worked his way over to him.

“Zack! Zack Allan, the security officer!”

“Doctor,” Zack said brusquely, not bothering to spare him a glance. “Everyone’s been evacuated to their quarters. Got a situation down in the docking bays. Band of Ginfinians were denied entrance to the station and have taken control over several levels of Blue Sector. If you’ll head along ...” He guided people into the hall, and the Doctor followed.

“Ginfinians, 2259. Big rebellion on their planet, most of the planet’s currently enslaved by those who believe they’re pure-blooded,” the Doctor said as they edged their way down the corridor. “Why are they here?”

Zack shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s all the Chief’s telling me at this time. We’ve not been exactly on the best speaking terms lately, and he’s a bit busy at the moment. I heard he was heading down to talk with the Ginfinians.”

“Meet me in blue,” the Doctor murmured, then turned to a station map. “Oh, I see.” He took off toward a transport tube.

Zack had already gone back to his duty when he noticed the Doctor take off out the corner of his eye. “Thank you, kindly move … Doctor? Doctor, you can’t go there! Doctor!” Zack chased after the Doctor as he reached a transport tube. “Those are all shut down, no one can use them right now except security personnel.”

“This track should be clear,” the Doctor said, then used his sonic on the panel. He let himself in, then soniced the controls to propel the tube toward Blue Sector. Zack leaped through the doors just as they slid shut.

He collapsed against the doors, wheezing a bit, making a mental note to book some extra time in the gym. “Doctor, sir, I know you’re with UNIT, but you can’t just go against security protocol. Look, we’ll have you check in with the Chief or the commander.”

“What, not the captain?” The Doctor brought up a station map that was normally used for navigation.

“Sorry, he’s off ship at this time. Personal stuff. That’s why the Chief’s handling this.”

“Pity. Always wanted to meet him.” The Doctor cast a glance at Zack. “How many levels are in Blue Sector, Zack?”

Zack pushed off the door to join the Doctor. “Seventy. It’s where all the employees live. “

“OK.” The Doctor frowned at the blinking map. “Ginfinians. Why are they here? They’re divided into two distinct factions, those they considered pure-blood and the others mixed species. The pure-blooded tribe is known as the Raxif. Not bent on world domination, that won’t come for at least three more centuries, but they love exerting their control over the other tribe. Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “You’re harboring someone!”

“I am?” Zack asked with a bit of confusion.

The Doctor pointed at the map “Oh, you most certainly are! This station’s claim to fame is being a neutral zone where species can work out their differences in peace. Really good idea, too bad it didn’t work out so well. Enjoy it while you can. In any case, where would the leader of a rebellion go if they have to flee?” The transport tube opened to reveal the hectic floors of Blue Sector that weren’t part of the hostage zone. “Here, of course!”

“Wait,” Zack said as he chased the Doctor into the corridor, “so we’re apparently harboring a guy that these Raxifans want to kill because he’s their enemy.”

“Girl, if I remember right. Not guy. And she wants to free approximately six million Ginfinians from slavery, which would really piss them off.” The Doctor plastered himself against a wall and saw that not all of the crowd was moving. No, they were moving, but they were separated from the rest of them. “They’re behind a wall. What’s with the glass wall?”

“That’s not right.” Zack paled. “Those walls never go down. They shouldn’t be there. Look at all those people on the other side. Those aren’t suppose to be working anymore. They were only in place as the station was being constructed, so you could work on a level without being sucked out into space, the Chief said. There’s the glass, then there’s huge steel doors that close beyond them.

The Doctor rubbed his chin. “They got the glass to work, but not the steel. Right, we need to figure out how many people are in there and how to get them out. Is there a maintenance panel nearby?”

“Right here,” Zack said, and they quickly moved to it.

The Doctor unbolted the panel, setting it aside. He ran the sonic over the mess of circuits and the keyboard beneath where they could input orders manually. “Can’t do it all from here,” he muttered and began keying in some commands. “They’ve disabled it. Fried these circuits. But, no, a system like this would have a partner panel. Disable both at the same time, bring down the safety doors. Prevents some unskilled monkey from buggering it up.” He pulled out various wires and studied the ends, then tried soldering them together with the sonic.

“Sir?” Zack tugged on his jacket.

The Doctor waved him off. “Not now, Zack, I’m trying to save this space station.”

Zack only tugged harder. “Um, sir? Doctor? You really should pay attention.”

“I am paying attention to these wires and cords and, really, they skimped on these circuits.”

“Sir, there’s a woman. I think she’s trying to get your attention. Weren’t you looking for your wife?”

The Doctor’s head snapped up to scan over the people trapped on the other side of the glass wall. If there was anything he could notice in a crowd of hundreds... no thousands, it was _that hair_ and the woman attached to it, waving frantically.

He raced to the glass, planting his hands against it, never so glad to see River Song in his life. She was slicked into a black dress that had to be illegal on three planets, with a slit going so high up her thigh that … he swallowed, thoroughly distracted by that glimpse of leg. Apparently, she was making plans to forgive him for being late. “River!”

She said something back to him, but nothing came through. He pounded the glass, but River shook her head. Frustrated, he flattened his hands against the glass again and turned to Zack. “How thick is this?”

“It’s about seven inches thick,” Zack supplied. “It’s bulletproof, bombproof, shatterproof and soundproof. Which means, you might want to tell her to stop using that laser cutter on it.”

The Doctor turned back to see River had a small tool out, tongue caught between her teeth as she tried to etch her way through the wall. She gave up, threw up her hands and shook her head, then began to mouth something.

“What’s she doing?”

“Hush,” the Doctor ordered and leaned in close to the glass to read her lips. “Are you sure?” he asked after a couple minutes of her speaking.

River nodded.

“How many?”

When she gave her reply, the Doctor began to pace. “This is good. This is really not good.”

Zack folded his arms over his chest. “You know, sir, not all of us are fluent in lip reading.”

“There’s about 400 people trapped on the other side of that wall,” the Doctor snapped at Zack. “Four hundred because your captain gave amnesty to the leader of the rebellion then left the station. They want her back, preferably in many small pieces. If they don’t get her, they’re going to separate this part of the station and hurl it down into the planet below. They’re going to do it piece by piece, floor by floor until it’s completely gone. And then, if she’s still not produced, they’ll do the same thing to the rest of this station.”

Zack went white. “Oh god …”

“Did your Chief not tell you that?” The Doctor pushed off the glass.

Zack grumbled. “I told you, he hasn’t talked to me a lot lately. Not since I joined Nightwatch.”

“Oh, Nightwatch. Do yourself a favor, give that up.” The Doctor tugged at his hair, pacing frantically. “OK, we need to work out a way around the seal and get everybody out.”

“Sir, I’m sure the Chief is working on that …”

“I’m sure he is. But you see, Zack, he lacks the best authorities around on hacking their way into a system.”

“And that is …?”

“Us!” The Doctor turned back to the window and pulled a permanent black marker out of his pocket. He held it up to River, tapped it, and began writing on the wall in a swirl of circles and swirls.

Zack shuffled from foot to foot. “Ah, sir, this isn’t really the time to graffiti the station.”

“I am not graffiting the station. I’m writing a message.” The Doctor threw a look over his shoulder at Zack, then noticed River reading the writing. She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a thin tube of lipstick. She made a couple of slashes through the writing from his side with the lipstick and wrote notes under it.

“River, really, this isn’t the time to correct my spelling,” he scrawled with a scowl. “Zack, don’t ever get married. Wives are nothing but trouble. They correct you all the time.”

River rolled her eyes and jabbed her finger against the glass.

“Look, I am not about to let you rub in the fact that you can conjugate six degrees of O(0)) when I can only do four, I was late to class that day!”

River just scowled and scribbled out more with the lipstick.

“Oh, wait … oh, you’re _brilliant_. Absolutely, completely brilliant! Do you see what she’s doing, Zack?”

“Proving she can color inside the lines?”

“She’s River Song. She _never_ colors inside the lines. No, she’s figured out a way for us to patch into the systems there, override the fried maintenance panel here and get everyone out!” The Doctor attacked the wall with a vengeance, the two of them writing out code, theorems and formulas until the marker ran dry and River had wore her lipstick down to a stub. But, they had it.

“Zack!” The Doctor sprang to his feet from where he crouched on the floor. “This class of Babylon space station has a C&C. Where is it? I need in there.”

“A few levels down, I don’t think it’s in the hostage zone. Do you have a plan, Doctor?”

“Zack, I always have a plan! I’ll let you know when it comes to me.” He spun around, snapping his braces. He winked and pointed at River, and she gave a thumbs up before kissing the glass, leaving a perfectly shaped kiss mark there. He glanced about nervously, straightened his lapels, then pecked the mark from his side. When he turned back, Zack had obligingly averted his gaze. They dashed out of the bay, but even though it was soundproof, the Doctor knew River was laughing at them.

\-----

They arrived at C&C to a frantic crew and a very surly commander who was not happy.

“We are in a crisis situation, Mr. Allen,” she informed him in a manner that caused several members of the crew to tremble in their seats. Even the Doctor was impressed. “This is no time to bring civilians into my C&C.”

“This isn’t a civilian, Commander. It’s the Doctor.”

“Doctors go to the Med Bay and not … hey, hey, hey!” the commander grabbed the Doctor’s arm, jerking him away from the console. “Get your hands off my console.” She slapped a communicator attached to the back of her hand against her cheek to activate it. “Garibaldi!”

“No, sir! You don’t get it! He’s UNIT!” Zack pleaded.

“I don’t care if he’s the president himself, he’s not allowed in my C&C.”

“Commander, the chain of command …,” a tall, thin man off to their left started to speak up, but she cut him off.

“I know what the chain of command is, Corwin,” the commander snapped at him. “I also know that we’re up to our eyeballs in panicked civilians, the ambassadors are demanding answers, we have 400-some-odd hostages being held in the lower levels of Blue Sector, there’s six hours until the captain is back on station, and none of this has put me in a good mood. And if you expect me to let this beanpole in tweed waltz into my C&C and take it over, you are all highly mistaken.”

“Commander …,” the Doctor cut in.

“You.” The commander jabbed a finger in the Doctor’s face. “Not a word.” She barked into her link again. “Garibaldi!”

The Doctor ignored her. “I know how to get them out of there. All of them. Without any of them being harmed, hostage-takers included. If you want to end this quickly, before your captain even gets a quarter of the way back, you will let me help you.”

“What interest do you have in this?”

His voice dropped. “Someone I care for very much is among the hostages. Granted, she can handle herself just fine, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have an interest in this. I want all of them safe, just as much as you do.”

“Commander Ivanova, please,” Zack begged. “I think he knows what he’s doing.”

“You _think_ , Mr. Allan?”

Zack bit his lip, then gambled his entire professional future. “I don’t think. I know. Give him a chance.”

Ivanova’s grip on the Doctor’s arm tightened. “Computer, bring up information on ‘The Doctor.’”

“Access requires command-level authorization,” the computer replied.

Ivanova rattled off a series of passwords and data flowed on a monitor. Links went unanswered as the staff read the files, some mouths hanging open.

The commander immediately let the Doctor go.

“Ivanova? We’re kind of busy here. Everything alright?” a tiny voice sounded from her communicator.

Ivanova met the Doctor’s gaze and held it. “Everything’s fine,” she snapped into the communicator and cut the transmission. “Well, UNIT, impress me.”

The Doctor took her seat without inviting himself. “Right, I need a pot of tea, about 12 SATA cables, spoo and access to your main communications cable.”

They gave him everything but the spoo, which Ivanova refused to let into her C&C.

The Doctor quickly constructed a device using the teapot, the sonic, the cables and a few odds and ends he had in his pockets, then hooked it into the system. A small explosion later, and he started working through the formula he and River had devised. As his fingers flew over the keys, he heard Ivanova updating her captain on the situation and the rest of the crew migrated to see what he was doing.

“Right, right, right, there it is. OK, I’ve patched it through. You!” He pointed to a tall man with close-cropped hair. “Activate the communications system.” He sat back and waited.

Nothing came through but tapping.

“You ruined my console,” Ivanova seethed, but the Doctor held up his hand.

“No, no, _listen._ ” The Doctor lifted his index finger. “Don’t you recognize that?”

The tapping continued.

“That’s … Morse code?” Zack guessed.

“Yes! Morse code! Brilliant man, but I was the one who helped make that code what it is today. Love Morse code. In any case … no, you can not laugh at me, hush, you!” he scolded the console. “Ok, let’s switch that signal here …” He flipped a few switches. “River?”

“Hello, sweetie.” Her voice, thin and scratchy but strong, came through.


	3. Chapter 3

River strode through Blue Sector at a quick clip, ignoring her fellow hostages gathered into little clumps. Some were crying, others were ashen-faced, quite a few shared the same fury that she had. She keyed into her quarters and began stripping off her dress.

She had _plans_. Very intricate plans that involved dinner and driving the Doctor to distraction before hauling him back to the TARDIS. Oh, yes, he’d been late, but she’d had a very lucrative month on the space station. She had set up as an antiquities dealer and managed to come across some rare artifacts -- some legally, others through less scrupulous means. The moment the alarm River coded into her communication unit went off, letting her know that the TARDIS had landed on the station, she packed her souvenirs into a shoebox she’d modified and enlarged on the inside. It cost an exorbitant amount of credits, but it would be sent to a discreet post office box on Earth. Anyone scanning the contents would see generic space station trinkets designed to pacify relatives who couldn’t travel.

She had just left the package to be mailed when the Raxif tribe swarmed into the halls and proceeded to hold everyone hostage. The thick glass walls slid into place, but the steel doors failed. It was enough to give them about 400 hostages -- and she was very annoyed to be counted as one of those. She’d spent the time before finding the Doctor asking discreet questions from those who were calm enough to provide some answers about their situation and use her palm unit to figure out the rest.

The only extra clothes she had were her normal outfit for archaeological expeditions. She always kept a set in her purse -- bigger on the inside, as well. It wasn’t what she would have chosen for this mission, but it would do. The Raxif would respond poorly to her dinner dress, she mused as she drew on sensible underwear, jodhpurs, and a sturdy cotton shirt, and it would also make it easier to move around the station undetected. She pulled on butter-soft leather boots and cinched her utility belt around her waist. She double-checked her pouch for her diary and made sure her gun was charged.

River slipped back into the hallway and quietly crept through the crowd. There wasn’t much security on this side of the barrier, and there weren’t enough Raxif to keep everyone contained. It was why they had to utilize the barriers, she realized. It was an advantage she was going to exploit.

She eased around the corner to a comm station and brought up a station map. “You’re really feeling desperate, aren’t you,” she murmured to the computer, a habit she noticed she had picked up from the Doctor. As a rule, she was normally silence for her missions -- quiet and stealth being key among the training she’d received as a child., But the more time she spent around her husband, the more River found herself picking up his tendency to ramble at times. It didn’t annoy her quite as much as she thought it would.

She swung a keyboard out and began keying in some queries. “Opposite end of the station from the fusion reactor and fuel storage areas. No, you’re wanting to make a statement but not risk taking out your goal, because she’s not here. You want to bring her back home, torture her before you enact the old Earth ritual of disembowelment and sticking the parts on stakes.” She arched her eyebrows as she imagined how the bloody scene would go down. “A hell of a way to go.”

The panel she wanted was in one of docking bays. River considered her options and decided for the tried-and true maintenance shaft. She scanned the ceiling until she spotted a door set into it and a ladder built into the wall for access and quickly shimmied up it. Moving as silently as possible, she made her way down linking shafts to the area she’d figured out from the station map. She removed the panel, stuck her head down. The backs of three Raxifans were to her. Perfect. She silently dropped down, remaining in a crouch as she weighed her options. She considered plasma, then decided for tranquilizers. There would be less arguing with the Doctor later. She pulled a thin tube out of her utility belt, loaded it with darts, then blew one at each of the three Raxifans. Within seconds of hitting a pulse on their necks, they slumped to the ground.

“Nighty night,” River whispered with a grin, then turned to the comm unit. First things first, unscramble the communications. She skipped over the normal station channel and patched into the Gold Channel that the station reserved for high-security communications with Earth, then pinged the C&C. Using the empty tranquilizer tube, she began tapping out Morse code.

She made it through “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” the alphabet song and was a quarter of the way through the first act of _Much Ado About Nothing_ when the Doctor’s voice came through. “River?”

She adjusted a dial. “Hello, sweetie.”

The Doctor’s voice was staticy, but quickly became clearer as he tweaked dials on his side. “Really? _Much Ado About Nothing_?”

“I’m quite fond of it, though my favorite is _Taming of the Shrew_.” River smiled fondly as she put her tools away. “There’s a production of _Much Ado About Nothing_ we really should pop back and see in the early 21st century. Perhaps later? After dinner?”

“Which one? I’m banned from quite a few.”

River’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “I certainly hope I helped you get banned from them.”

“Maybe one or two. Spoilers, dear.”

“How exciting!”

“Would you two stop flirting and get on with saving this station?” an annoyed female voice snapped from the Doctor’s end.

“We're working on it.” River rummaged through her utility belt. The last sonic she’d nipped from the Doctor had met a violent end, and she hadn’t replaced it yet. “Could use one of the links the employees have. I should have nicked one.”

“There’s headsets in the maintenance panels,” another voice, this one male, said. “They’re backup in case the links don’t work.”

River unbolted the maintenance panel and found them secured to the back side. It took a little longer without a sonic, but she routed the call through to the headset. She snapped it on her ear and tapped the volume. “OK, I’m starting it now.” She pulled out a small laser and set to work on the wires.

“Right.” From his end, the Doctor’s fingers began flying over the keyboard. “The hostage areas include these five levels,” he pointed to a hologram map that someone had brought up, “and bays 13-17. They used this panel where River’s current at,” he indicated an area near Bay 16, “to drop the doors.”

“They’ve been dealing with the security chief with all their demands and chit-chat, which is why they’re not bothering you,” he told River. “We’ve got to get this done before they realize what’s going on.”

“I’m working as fast as I can, sweetie.”

The Doctor switch the main communication channel to the general station channel and opened a link. “Hello!” he chirped when he saw the Raxifans, the grey-suited security officers and blue-uniformed Earth soldiers snap their heads around to gawk at the monitor. He waved cheerfully. “I’m the Doctor. Oh, Raxifans! Haven’t seen you in a long time. Aren’t you just gorgeous, look at you! Nasty temperament, really don’t care for your morals, though.”

“Who the hell are you?” One of the security men barked. “Ivanova!”

“Listen to the clown with the bowtie, Garibaldi. He’s UNIT.”

“Really, that’s quite rude!” The Doctor straightened his bowtie. “In any case, you’re seeking So’la-Un-M’ck, am I not right?”

“You know of the great war criminal?” One of the Raxifans asked.

The Doctor spread his hands. “Oh, yes! Brilliant woman, utterly magnificent! She’ll bring an era of peace and prosperity to your planet if you happen not to catch her. Which you won’t.”

The Raxifan pushed his nose into the monitor, and the Doctor winced. That was going to be one hell of a smear to clean off from that end.“We’ll destroy this station, level by level, if you don’t turn her over to us.”

The Doctor tilted his head to one side. “I think you’ll have a slight problem with that.”

The Raxifan growled and immediately hit a button in his hand.

Dead silence.

“Why aren’t the explosives working?” the Raxifan barked.

“Oh! Did I not tell you?” The Doctor rocked back in the chair. “First of all, your war criminal exited the station about two hours before your hostage situation began. She sends her apologies, Mr. Garibaldi, whichever one of those officers you are. The one going bald and giving me the beady eye, I’m guessing.” He clapped his hands. “At any rate, I most certainly wouldn’t have done this without a plan. Did I not have a plan, Zack Allan?”

Zack shuffled from foot to foot. “Um … Actually, you really didn’t and …”

“Rule 1, Zack! The Doctor lies. I always have a plan. Oh, and this plan is absolutely brilliant. Oh,” the Doctor turned his attention back to the Raxifan, “did you know I was here to have dinner with my wife?”

“He’s married?” Ivanova hissed to Zack. “Woman must be a saint.”

Zack thought of the couple and the strange language on the glass wall. “Well, yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

The Doctor ignored them. “See, the thing about River? She’s quite clever. Extremely clever, actually, but don’t tell her I said that. It’ll go to her head.”

A snort came through the Doctor’s headset along with the muttered words, “Pot. Kettle. Black.”

The Doctor ignored that as well. “See, she just happened to be one of your hostages. Archaeologist, though I keep telling her there were hundreds of better professions out there. But, she’s pretty handy with a gun, and she’s an amazing hacker. She just dismantled your explosives, you know. No, don’t suppose you’ve met, but you’re about to get her calling card … now.”

The glass wall slid open.

“Everybody out!” Garibaldi yelled, leaping into action. Security swarmed the Raxifans as the hostages streamed out of Blue Sector to the cheers of those in C&C.

“See? Easy!” The Doctor swiveled around and leaped to his feet. He stuck out his hand. “Commander.”

“Doctor.” Ivanova grinned and shook it.

The evacuation proceeded quickly, and Blue Sector was cleared within a couple of minutes.

“We have all of them rounded up,” Garibaldi told Ivanova through her link. “That Doctor of yours was right about So’la-Un-M’ck. Smuggled off station about two hours ago and should be on her way back home, hopefully to kick these guys in the ass. I’ll be up in C&C as soon as we get these guys into holding cells. I want to meet this Doctor.”

“Sweetie?” River’s voice, suddenly tight, came over the headset.

“River!” The Doctor turned back to the monitor with a flirty grin and ran a finger over the earpiece. “Dinner?”

“Not quite yet, my love. We have a problem,” she said as on the Doctor’s end, a light began flashing on the monitor.

“Ivanova.” Garibaldi’s clipped voice came over Ivanova’s communicator. “We have a situation.”

“What’s wrong?” The Doctor asked River.

“What is it?” Ivanova asked Garibaldi.

“One of the Raxifans used a remote right as we were handcuffing him. Security scan just picked up enough explosives in bay 16 ….” Garibaldi said.

“... to rip this entire station in two,” River said. “And they’re on a traditional timer, different from the ones I just took out. They’re in the bay itself, and the remote also activated the doors, so it’s sealed off. I’m patching into the system … They’re set to detonate in five minutes and counting.”

The entire C&C went silent.

“Commander,” one of the crew members spoke up. “We’re getting a life sign from inside bay 16.”

“There should be nobody in that part of Blue Sector. Everyone got out,” Ivanova snapped.

Fear was a horrible thing. The Doctor had known fear many, many times in his long lives. It formed a greasy ball in the middle of your gut, then seized you by the throat, making it almost impossible to breath. He stared at the monitor, could have bore a hole into the screen by the sheer glare he gave it. “River,” he said softly, “where are you?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment. “Still at the maintenance panel in Bay 16,” she replied. “I never made it out.”

\-----

No one in C&C celebrated when the station was saved a second time.

Out in the halls, cheers, tears and relief echoed throughout the sectors. Even in Down Below, caches of home brew were brought out to toast the station’s safety and the chance to live another day.

The Doctor slowly let the microphone go, trying to ignore the screaming in his mind. It wasn’t the right time, his common sense railed at him. It wasn’t. But, River Song’s death in the Library wasn’t a fixed point in time. Oh, he’d talked himself into believing that, but there was that split second where he had looked away as she connected the wires. There hadn’t been a body. Donna had thought it had been incinerated when he told her, but there were none of the signs, and he let her believe it. He’d known it all along, it was why he was spending his spare time trying to figure a way out of it without sacrificing Donna and all those people. Time could be rewritten, he’d boastfully told Amy all those years ago when he was trying to skitter away from losing his hearts again.

Well, it had been rewritten. And, he’d lost his hearts anyhow.

“Sir?” Zack asked quietly. “Is there anything …”

“No,” he replied and gave Zack a sad smile. “Just … no. Thank you.”

He was numb now. He would be numb long enough to make it back to the TARDIS. He’d been here far too many times. Susan. Adric. Rose. _His entire damn race_. He blinked back tears and wondered how he was going to tell the Ponds that he’d failed them one more time. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he started out of the C &C.

Corwin spun around in his chair. “Sir, we’re picking up a life sign from outside the station.”

Ivanova all but pounced on the monitors. “Where? Bring up visual. We need a rescue team out there. Doctor!” She turned, but he was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

A quarter-million people of all races, gender and from every galaxy across the universe celebrated life and the safe return of the hostages. None of them noticed the man slowly walking toward customs, hands buried in his pockets as he stared at his scuffed boots. So many lives had been saved. That was good, right? But, the cost … He squeezed his eyes shut and willed away the tears. He was old enough to know that men did cry. And he would mourn. But not yet. He wanted to be alone before he gave into his grief.

The Doctor walked the endless maze of corridors rather than take the transport tube. Memories spilled through his mind, one after one, of River when he’d first met her, as the tiny, tiny infant whose ganger he’d gotten to hold briefly, as the sassy Mels that had actually fired a gun in the TARDIS, to the woman who’d broken time to save him. All those missed chances, when he had treated River so coldly because he didn’t know, was too scared of who she would become to him. Who she exactly was now, really. He had planned to deal with River’s death when he was ready, that moment being very, very far in his future. As far as possible. But this was sudden. It was cruel, unexpected and time laughing in his face once again.

Sometimes, the Doctor wondered, how could Jack ever stand immortality?

He turned into customs and spotted the TARDIS. He approached his oldest friend, the one being who would never leave him. He stroked the door and rested his forehead against the ancient wood. “I lost her,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sure what made him turn toward the customs area that final time. Instinct, he thought later, as he gave one last look around the large room.

Then his eyes landed on a small figure who just entered the room.

She was pale and exhausted. Her curls had been tamed back into a ponytail and she wore hospital scrubs. An earpiece was still secured to her ear, and she clutched her diary, utility belt and gun like holy relics from a lost planet.

Their eyes met above the noise and confusion of hundreds of people milling about.

“You’re late,” River said.

“Bit of a traffic jam,” the Doctor managed and smiled, not caring about the tears. He giggled, unable to help himself. “Happy anniversary.”

She beamed. “Happy anniversary.”

Then she was there, and she was in his arms, and there were no words in the universe that could describe the happiness, the relief, the sheer _joy_ of feeling her, smelling her, holding her. He buried his head in her shoulder, and she clung to him so tightly that he knew there would be bruises despite his clothes.

“I love you.” The words came so easily, and he wondered why he had ever struggled with them before. “I really do love you, you know. I’m sorry I never told you before now. Tend to have a run of bad luck when it comes to that. You know, rips in the Void, clones, explosions, things like that. Really, the universe should be imploding about now, or at least this part of the universe, but still …”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me, you sentimental idiot,” she laughed, then did it herself before he could do anything. She kissed him in front of hundreds and hundreds of people, and he kissed her right back, not really caring about the audience. He was so proud of her. She had managed to save a space station, then she saved herself. Really, he shouldn’t have expected anything less from River Song.

They stumbled into the TARDIS, still kissing and touching everywhere they could. As soon as the door slammed at their backs, she had his jacket off and was busy undoing his bowtie. He tore at the scrubs, wanting every scrap of clothing from this expedition off her. They took two steps toward the console, and his bowtie and braces and her diary joined the growing heap of clothes on the floor. Another step, and the loose jumpsuit she wore fell to her feet, leaving her in exercise shorts and a sports bra. She kicked the garment aside.

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hands and felt the small cuts and scrapes. They would heal quickly. “Where were you?”

“On the hull.” She nimbly undid his shirt buttons and smoothed her hands over his chest. “Life pod. All Starfuries have them. I got into it right after I started the countdown. I wasn’t sure I had enough time to make it out, so I went ahead and ejected it from the Starfury. The bay dropped out from under us, but the life pod is designed to remain adrift. They came for me a few minutes later.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t come for me yourself.”

He had the good grace to blush.

“You really thought I was dead?” River’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “Doctor …”

“It’s not like you didn’t make it convincing,” he snapped back, finally gaining an outlet for the fear, the worry and the grief. “Starting that countdown before it was time, not getting out in the first place like you should have, not bothering to let anyone know you had a bloody life pod next to you.” He backed her into the console. “You’re part-Time Lord, River, not immortal.”

“I didn’t get out because I realized it was too easy,” River shot back, pressing her nose into his face. “Nothing is ever that easy, Doctor, especially this. I had a hunch. It was right, and we saved everyone. You’d do the same thing, and if you even try denying it, I swear I will castrate you into your next regeneration.”

That shouldn’t have turned him on. But, it did. He kissed her now, a punishing, bruising kiss that was aggressive. Possessive. He grasped her hips, lifted her onto the console and stepped between her legs. She hauled him into her, pressing pelvis to pelvis as she grinded into him. Her hands fisted his shirt, and he felt the fabric at the shoulders rip.

His hands skimmed up strong, well-toned arms, over her shoulders and down her back to grab the elastic band securing the sports bra below her breasts. He peeled it off slowly, tossing it aside. Her hands dropped to his neck, and they kissed again, this time more gentle. He skimmed a hand up the inside of her thigh and lightly pressed his thumb at the apex. She shuddered, moaned a bit into his mouth and rolled her hips slightly. He teased her for just a few seconds, long enough for her to reach for his trousers. He chuckled, nipped her lower lip, and drew his hand back.

He started with her chin, little nibbling kisses and bites down the side of her neck. His hands skimmed over her full breasts, and his lips followed, gently sucking one nipple while he rolled the other between his thumb and index finger. She whimpered and wasn’t quiet at all -- making demands, pleas, or just moaning. He took his time exploring her, because that’s what they had now. Time, spinning out into a golden web of an endless future. The towers teased, the Library taunted, but he slammed the door on those memories and kicked them to the recesses of his mind. Not now.

He dropped to his knees as he kissed her belly, hooking his fingers in her shorts and knickers and drawing them off. He pressed a kiss to the soft thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, then moved even lower. He trailed teasing fingertips up her inner thighs, and she splayed them wider as his thumbs slowly separated her folds. He stared at her, studying this part of her with the sort of intensity he should have given his studies years and years ago. Oh, but this was so much better. He leaned forward, lips just inches from her, then softly blew on her clit.

Her hips jerked, and her hands fisted in his hair. She pushed hard, rolling her hips up at the same time, and he chuckled. “Always in such a hurry,” he scolded and nipped the soft skin of her inner thigh, then nuzzled the spot. Then he turned his head ever so slightly and drew that small, aching bundle of nerves between his lips. A small nip, a gentle scrape of teeth and he was rewarded with a keening wail as she trembled beneath him. A bit surprised, he lifted his head, and this time, she had the good grace to blush.

“It’s been awhile,” she admitted. “I’d been expecting company.” Her voice dropped several octaves. “It gets ever so boring when it’s just yourself.”

He could see it. Gorgeous legs spread wide, sheets tangled around her feet, one hand buried between her thighs while the other teased her breasts. Back arched, his name on her lips. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or she was projecting the memory. But it was naughty, erotic, and it drove him mad. He nearly knocked her off the console as he surged to his feet, fingers trembling as he undid his trousers. He could have easily brought her to a second orgasm using just his lips, but he couldn’t wait anymore. Later. They would always have later.

He slid into her, and they both hissed. It really had been too long. He peered down at her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Move,” she ordered.

He tapped her nose. “Bossy.”

“I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to handcuff you to the chair and take care of things myself.”

“I can watch, right?” He nipped at her ear, drawing back then thrusting deep before she could respond. “I think I’d like that. Watching. You should do it some time. Maybe you’ve already done it. Oh, now you’re curious.” He chuckled at the frustration as she rolled her hips against him. “Such a naughty girl, wanting spoilers.”

“You’re the one who’s practically begging me to ask.” She pinched his bum, and he rewarded her with another thrust that made them both moan. “I think you get off on it,” she whispered in his ear. “Who said I’d allow you to watch? You’ve be privileged just to listen. Handcuffed with that bowtie over your eyes.” She chuckled as he gasped against her, his hips suddenly snapping. “Oh, you like that, my love.”

His eyes met hers, and he didn’t say anything as he slid his hands beneath her, angling her hips to penetrate deeper. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her hips rose to meet his. She tilted back, hair brushing the console, and he leaned forward to run his lips down her neck. Her hands fisted in his hair once more, and he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder as he felt her clench around him. Her scream echoed through the console room as he pushed forward once more and let go, trembling and gasping into her neck. His hands slammed onto the console, holding him up when he wanted to slide bonelessly to the floor.

Her hands were gentle now, stroking up and down his back. “We never seem to have dinner first,” she said with amusement.

“I thought this was dinner,” he murmured into her neck. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and pulled back, brushing errant curls out of her eyes. “You’re right.”

“About dinner?”

“No. About it being too easy, and don’t get used to it.” He pulled away to let her slide down. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and they stared a bit bashfully at the console before breaking into laughter. She pulled on his shirt, and he had just fastened his trousers as a knock sounded on the door.

“Zack!”

Zack calmly surveyed the half-dressed Doctor and River and the console room behind them. He merely arched an eyebrow. “Wanted to make sure you two were OK. Hey, look, the captain ‘s back on station. He’d like to meet you. Wants to thank you for what you did.”

“Captain Sheridan! I’ve always wanted to meet him!” The Doctor snatched up his coat.

“You might need a shirt, my love.”

“A cool shirt. Well, another cool shirt since you nicked that one.” He started for the the wardrobe.

“Yeah, but … just got a batch of communications from Earth.” Zack stuck his head in as the Doctor sprinted up the stairs. “Seems that ah … I think your wife’s wanted for questioning. The commander and the Chief are trying to let the captain know what you two have done, but …”

“River,” the Doctor hissed, whirling around and grabbing the railing as River scooped up her diary. She merely arched an eyebrow and started flipping through the pages.

“You know I was wondering about that trio of vases I accepted the other day. Or maybe it was … yes, this! Most like this.” River gave the Doctor a considering look. “Oh, you haven’t done that yet, have you? It did affect Earth’s jurisdiction in Epsilon 3. You’ll have lots of fun doing it.” She snapped the book shut, eyes shining with mischief. “Spoilers!”

“I hate that word,” the Doctor hissed as he stalked back down the stairs, and she blew him a kiss.

“Right, well, Zack, we must be off! And do follow my advice on Nightwatch.” The Doctor slammed the door in Zack’s face as armed officers swarmed into customs. He spun back to his wife. “River, what did you do?”

Her gaze was mysterious, and she gave him a secretive smile that would have done things to him if he hadn’t been so sated from their reunion. “Do you know why there’s a law against 20th century handcuffs being brought onto an Earth space station? You’re about to find out. Let’s just say you’ll enjoy it.”

The Doctor swallowed. Hard. “And, what are you wanted for?” he rasped.

“In this case? Six cases of grand theft and two cases of public indecency. Only one of those public indecency charges is mine.” River kissed his cheek.

The Doctor did enjoy making River a wanted criminal in the Epsilon system very much -- 14 months later for him and nine months earlier for her. It didn’t surprise him that the other public indecency charge was for himself. It’d been worth it.

And Amy and Rory could never quite find enough lettuce to feed their new pet. It was a good thing there were plenty of legwarmers in the charity shops.


End file.
